The First Meeting
by TolkienScribe
Summary: At a trip to the Lonely Mountain, Legolas meets Gimli for the first time. Written for Teitho challenge for February for the prompt 'First'. Part of the Green Leaves Universe. No Romance. Complete. Please read and review. :)
**The First Meeting**

 **Disclaimer:** Not one gem.

 **Summary:** At a trip to the Lonely Mountain, Legolas meets Gimli for the first time. Written for Teitho challenge for February for the prompt 'First'.

 **Rating:** K+

All of my stories are interconnected unless stated otherwise but you do not need to read one to understand the other.

This story does not contain any romance. Please respect this viewpoint.

Enjoy.

 **~S~**

 _Lonely Mountain,_

 _Third Age,_

 _Before the War of the Ring,_

"We have many differences between the Dwarves and our kind," Thranduil murmured to his son. Their entourage followed them at a reasonable distance. "But you must confess; they construct the most wondrous cities."

Legolas agreed, even if his heart yearned for the green forests. The Lonely Mountain was larger within the mountain walls than it seemed from the outside. The walls and ceiling were made of dark grey stone. The corridors were so wide that they were better described as streets, and bridges and stairs connected them all together in an eye-pleasing way. The silver-blue light emanated from the numerous Dwarven lanterns hanging from the walls and the ceiling. The lanterns hung from the posts and lined either side of the streets, bridges and stairs. Legolas felt no lack of light, and it almost resembled daylight.

The ceiling glittered in such a way that caught Legolas' eye. He looked up, his neck creaking as he did so. Thranduil followed his gaze until he looked up as well.

"That is certainly new." Thranduil praised in a low voice.

The ceiling was decorated with numerous white gems to reflect a dark sky full of brilliant white stars. It was nearly realistic, except that there was no moon.

"They never cease to amaze." Legolas said. Thranduil hummed in agreement. Then his father looked forward and nodded.

"We have company. The Dwarves are certainly punctual." Two Dwarves neared their small company. One of them was definitely older, and walked forward with purpose. His companion was younger, and he resembled him so strongly that he could only be family. "If my memory serves me, then that will be Lord Glóin himself." Thranduil threw his son a warning look. "And my memory serves me very well, my son. It'd be best not to jest on it."

"I would never," Legolas said immediately in mock innocence. Thranduil didn't reply; Glóin was too close for any bantering. Glóin was a barrel-chested, strongly built Dwarf with whitening hair and beard. He was dressed in dark blue robes with silver intricate embroidery on his neckline and edges.

"Greetings," Glóin's voice was deep, and it rumbled from his chest. He bowed his head respectfully, though the bow was a shallow, pleasant one. Thranduil inclined his head in acknowledgement. Legolas mirrored the gesture. "I hope your journey to the Mountain was without any incident."

"As always since the war we fought side by side in," Thranduil nodded. "My son, Legolas, accompanied me on this journey." Legolas and Glóin exchanged small pleasantries.

"My son," Glóin commented. He waved his hand to the younger Dwarf who stood by his elbow. "Gimli is his name. He knows the Lonely Mountain as if it were built under his own command. He can show you around the Mountain and perhaps you will be interested in our culture and heritage."

The Dwarf he indicated was taller than the Elf's waist, with a stocky, broad build and rounded arms and legs. His hair was light brown with bushy moustache and beard that reached his belt. He was dressed in thick, royal purple robes that were trimmed with bright gold ribbons on his sleeves, neckline and hem. A dull golden belt was clasped around the barrel-like girth of his person. His brown eyes peered at him under thick eyebrows. Gimli's face was expressionless.

"The Lonely Mountain grows more beautiful with each passing year," Thranduil praised. Glóin smiled warmly, obviously pleased.

"We have yet to restore it to complete glory," Glóin said.

"I cannot imagine how much more glorious this city under the Mountain can get," Thranduil said. "But I look forward to it."

Legolas hid his smile. His father, always genial, always composed, but the flattery wasn't meaningless. He was sincere.

"Perhaps you would like to explore the city before going to the meeting," Glóin offered Thranduil. "There is much that has changed since you came here last."

"An intriguing offer but I am pressed for time. I only came here for the meeting," Thranduil declined, his tone still very formal. He placed his hand on Legolas' shoulder and gently pushed him forward. "Perhaps my son will be willing to take the tour in my place. In the meantime, we will discuss our trades."

"Of course, and my son will take my place as a guide," Glóin gestured at his son. Gimli strode forward. Legolas looked at his father in silent plea. But Thranduil passed him in encouraging smile, a light of mischief glittering in his eyes.

"Go," Thranduil insisted. Legolas inclined his head and forced a smile on his face before he followed the waiting Dwarf. Gimli beckoned him lightly with a hand and turned on his heel. He began to walk away and Legolas followed. It was a steady gait; comfortable for both but the silence was slightly uncomfortable.

"Where would you like to go first?" Gimli asked, breaking the silence as if it were a thick layer of ice. "Is there something that you would particularly like to see?" Legolas shook his head and smiled ruefully.

"You know more about your customs and traditions more than I. Lead me where you wish, or where you think best." Gimli dipped his head in assent and led him.

It was the first time Legolas stepped so deep into the Lonely Mountain. So he took his time in discovering his surroundings. The Lonely Mountain was rumoured large and spacious. It harboured the forges for the Dwarves' preferred craft, a marketplace for selling their wares, guest quarters for foreign travellers and living quarters for themselves.

They were on a bridge when Legolas caught sight of a clearing lined with benches on its boundaries. It was full of children and their mothers. Legolas stopped by the clearing. The Dwarf-children played amongst themselves, beardless but with thick tumbling locks ranging from red to black. He never saw Dwarf-children before. He halted and placed one hand on the cool wooden banister over a fence. Legolas saw the lads played with small steel figurines, arranged in rows like that of an army. They played amongst themselves. The girls held dolls against themselves, dressed in rich clothing and jewellery fit for a young noblewoman. He watched them for a long before he noticed his guide was not with him. Gimli already crossed the bridge and now waited for him at the end of it. The children's play ended and they quickly scrambled to their mothers. Legolas smiled before he moved on. Gimli led him first to the forges.

"This is where we practice our craft," Gimli told him. "And we make nothing but the best."

Legolas turned on his heels in wonder. The forges were interconnected with each other through numerous narrows bridges, trolleys and stairs. The ceilings above them were vaulted, devoid of the beautiful array of white gems as the ones that greeted the Elves at the entrance. Here, the ceiling was made for practicality, and the pillars supporting the structure over the forges was in fact hollow to vent the fumes and smoke through them and out the Mountain. At least, that was what Legolas guessed. When Gimli began to describe the large room, his concept turned out to be true.

"I assumed as much," Legolas replied once Gimli finished speaking. "Come; let me show you where I and the members of my house work."

Gimli's forge was organized and neat. He walked round the fire that burned merrily in its container. It was open, but well contained in walls of brick and metal. A clean anvil was placed near it, with a hammer waiting for its bearer. Ingots lined neatly in a nearby shelf, and unfinished projects lined the shelf next to it. His companion shadowed him wordlessly, allowing Legolas to explore to his heart's content.

His eyes drew towards an unfinished project resting on a table in front of the two shelves. At first, Legolas mistook it for a real plant placed in a pot, but it was quickly dismissed a split second later. He neared it and found the pot was made of dull white metal. The plant had a green thick stem, separated into thin branches. Tendrils curled at the edges. The leaves were curled downwards, with a jagged outline. The flowers were exquisite, curved in resemblance of roses. And they were entirely made of pink-coloured gems. The petals were chiselled in numerous facets to catch the light. The flowers were attached to the plant by melting parts of the branches and joining them.

Legolas threw one last look at the plant over his shoulder. When he turned, he found Gimli watching him with a thoughtful expression but he thought nothing of it. Instead he discovered a tray full of queerly shaped pieces. They were mostly made of wood, with beaten bands of steel. He looked first at Gimli and then back at the tray. They seemed to be designed to join together. Legolas tried to join the first two, but he found he couldn't. He tried again. Gimli chuckled quietly at Legolas' stumbling fingers. He stepped forward and pushed the Elf lightly away from the stone table.

"Step aside, Master Elf." The Dwarf said gruffly. Gimli gathered the pieces in front of him and began to assemble them. Legolas watched, fascinated. One piece joined the other and yet, another until a bow began to form right in front of Legolas' eyes. He glimpsed Gimli's hands, and found them callused, burned and scarred. This Dwarf was not a stranger to hard labour and Legolas didn't doubt for even a moment that he was capable of many imaginative inventions. At last all the pieces were used. Done, Gimli offered the bow to Legolas who accepted it. He examined it carefully. The ends of the bow were curved backwards. Steels bands followed the length of the bow, until they swelled into complicated pattern in the middle. Looking closer, the pattern in the middle formed lettering of the Dwarves.

"What does it mean?"

"It is only a label, marking it the first. It isn't complete." Gimli explained. "This is but the first of many contraptions we wanted to make for our archers. If we improve one of its traits, it lacks in something else."

"May I?" Legolas asked. Gimli nodded in assent. With the Dwarf's permission, Legolas raised the bow and pulled it back, testing its strength. It pulled much easier than he thought. Gimli wordlessly held up an arrow for him to take. It had a broad arrowhead, but it was well-balanced.

Legolas aimed for the small notch in the wooden bookshelf. It was too close but it would suffice. He released the bowstring and the arrow whizzed through the air and dug into the notch.

"What do you think?"

Legolas frowned, weighed the bow in his hand and then returned it to Gimli. "It will take too long to assemble in the face of danger. I prefer our longbows," Legolas commented mildly. His companion wasn't offended but he was certainly not impressed.

"Come, there is much to show you. I am sure you have already seen the marketplace, so I will take you somewhere else." Legolas followed Gimli out of the forges and they crossed the street to another pair of widely open doors.

"What's this?" Legolas glimpsed inside, noticing how the Dwarves were hard at work. He found most of them were females.

"Here we make toys for children," the Dwarf said. Legolas raised his brows at that, and with a smile on his face, he crossed the threshold.

The males were silent and bent at work back in the forges. But here, the females were talkative and lively. They were dressed like their males, in blackened and scorched work clothes, their hair and beard was safely tucked out of harm's way. They laughed and chattered casually, drowning out the delicate hammering. The hall was small, with tables arranged end to end along its length. Various toys sat on those tables; ships, soldiers, chess pieces, carriages, horses, birds and more. The female smiths gathered around three large fires, bent at work over their individual tables. They were so immersed in their work that they didn't pay any attention to the Elf. But they murmured greetings to Gimli. Legolas didn't doubt why. Gimli was, after all, the son of the Dwarf who was sent with his company to retake the Lonely Mountain. He halted in front of the corner of the hall where most of the commotion lay. Dwarves sat in a wide circle. There was a white sheet in the middle and a heap of coloured toys covered the centre. Each female had a set of paints and fine-haired paintbrushes. They talked in themselves in their exotic language, deep in their work.

"I never knew it was possible to paint metal," Legolas said in surprise and wonder. "How do you do it?" Gimli's eyes glittered mysteriously and he smiled amusedly.

"A Dwarf never delves his secrets in front of strangers, Master Elf."

Legolas laughed.

"Ah," he paused. "Then perhaps I might have the honour to call you 'friend' someday." Gimli pondered and then nodded.

"Perhaps," he consented. One of the Dwarves looked up and she smiled at them. She got up and offered something to Legolas. He took it and the Dwarf returned to her work. Legolas opened his palm and looked down. It was a tiny dragon, made of-

"Is that gold?" He asked, amazed. Gimli shook his head.

"Brass," Gimli corrected. "But it is mixed with other metals. Gold is too soft for this work."

Legolas reached out with a hand, stopped and glanced at Gimli. The Dwarf nodded and gestured at him to continue. He picked up and looked at it closely. The dragon was a detailed one, with small oval rubies for eyes. It was barely as long as Legolas' hand and his palm enclosed easily around the dragon's body. Its wings folded back and remained tucked to the dragon's side. He peered at the underside, and found the smith even etched small scaled along the dragon's length. All four limbs ended with tiny claws, pointed but not sharp. The tail was also movable, and it whipped back and forth while Legolas handled the dragon.

"It flies too."

Legolas stared at Gimli in disbelief.

"Surely, you jest."

"Indeed, I do not," Gimli held out an empty hand, palm upward. "Give it to me." Legolas placed the dragon in his hand. The Dwarf opened the belly of the golden beast. Inside, it was built like a small furnace. Gimli lit a candle with a flint and held the lit candle in the furnace. It caught fire, and Gimli closed the lid. Then he opened his palm wide and waited. For a moment, nothing happened. Soon, the dragon glowed from the warmth within. Smoke rose from its open mouth. Legolas began to smile in delight before he even realised it. The wings flapped, slowly at first before gaining speed. The tail lashed luxuriously side to side. And then the dragon lifted itself from Gimli's palm. Legolas gave a soft 'ah' of pleasant surprise. It lifted completely from Gimli's hand and took off. Legolas watched it take flight.

"How does it function?" Legolas asked.

"The interior of it is filled with numerous gears and powered with hot air. The wings and tail are designed to help in flight." It flew round and round over Legolas' head. He laughed as he watched the dragon. Its wings caught the light above them and reflected it in pure showery gold. "It only flies for a short time, however." The dragon's wings and tail stilled and it fell in a straight line to the ground. Legolas saved it from breaking when he quickly caught it in between his hands. It was moderately warm.

"The first one we made flew for only a short moment and disappeared in the fire of the forges," there was a trace of amusement in Gimli's voice. "The second one had too thin body and melted." He placed it on the table carefully. "This is the third."

"I confess I am impressed." Legolas said to his companion.

"It is my first time in the uninterrupted and open presence of an Elf," Gimli confessed. "I admit I am not as well-versed coming to Elves." Legolas laughed shortly.

"Then we have something in common. I must admit that no matter what I see here in the Mountain, it will not overcome the beauty of my forest."

"You do not like the Lonely Mountain?" Gimli asked, offended. His brow was furrowed. Legolas quickly assuaged him.

"I do! Indeed, I do," Legolas said. "But I love my forest more. You have your gems and stones. In a forest, there is life everywhere. Even the trees our people live in are very much alive. The air always fresh and the seasons change and you sense the change. We experience the joy of deer to eat grass at last, watch the animals awaken from their winter sleep. At night we glimpse the stars and watch the moon travel across the sky. There is beauty and life everywhere, Master Dwarf."

Gimli looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps someday I will travel through the forests and see their beauty, Master Elf," Gimli said quietly. "I might be convinced that they are just as beautiful as our cities." Legolas smiled. It was a small gesture of peace, a small truce to agree on their differences.

They spent the rest of their times in the marketplace, where Gimli entertained him with lunch. The dishes were unlike any Legolas ever tasted. The taste was more robust, with each bite bursting with flavour, salt and lemon. Most of the dishes consisted of goats. It was a different taste from forest deer. But he enjoyed it. When they finished, Gimli announced it was time for the meeting to break. He met his father at the bridge outside the market.

"How did the meeting fare?" Legolas murmured in Thranduil's ear in his native language.

"Excellent," Thranduil answered. "Our relations are strong, and I am confident that the trade between us is just as well." Their private conversation ended when Glóin neared them.

"It is always a pleasure to do business with the Dwarves of Lonely Mountain," Thranduil said. Glóin flashed a smile. While they spoke, Gimli stepped forward.

"Here," Gimli held out a box between his hands. Legolas looked down at it. It was a long narrow box made of polished wood and decorated with golden inlays.

"What is it?"

"It is a gift," Gimli said gruffly. "Only an Elf can truly appreciate the beauty such as this."

"Thank you," Legolas said. He was truly touched. It was completely unexpected and he wondered what gift it could be that he would appreciate.

"Let us escort you to Dale," Glóin addressed Thranduil. But the King shook his head.

"There is no need. We will travel to Greenwood directly. Thank you for your hospitality." They exchanged last few words and said their farewells. Glóin and Gimli escorted them to the entrance and departed from there.

The entourage joined them, surrounding them on all sides. He lifted the lid of the box and suddenly laughed, Thranduil halted, curious and peered in it over his son's shoulder. A single rose lay on soft black velvet, cut from a pink gem. The stalk was dyed green steel, complete with dark thorns and a single wide green leaf.

"A valuable gift," Thranduil remarked. "The Dwarf evidently holds you in some proper regard."

"That is kind of him." Legolas said. He picked up the rose by its stalk and twirled it between his fingers, admiring it. "I nearly insulted him, you know. I made the mistake of saying that nature was closer to my heart than creations from anvil and fire."

"That must have galled him." Thranduil said, appalled. "I thought I taught you diplomacy, son of mine."

"Some of your lessons usually fall short," Legolas answered him smoothly. Thranduil sputtered and laughed. "But I cajoled him in time to be forgiven for my shortcoming." He placed his rose in the box and closed the box.

"Good," Thranduil congratulated. "Perhaps you learned something under my tutelage, after all."

"I still consider that the lessons truly fall short." Legolas insisted. Thranduil raised his brows but continued the banter.

"Oh, I am sure it doesn't fail from the lack of trying." Thranduil quipped. "But rather it depends on the student's level of understanding." Legolas burst out laughing and handing the box to a nearby guard and guided him to place it in his personal saddlebags.

"Perhaps one day you may even become friends." Thranduil said. The mirth and teasing was prominent in his voice.

Legolas stopped by the entrance of the Mountain and looked back. The world beneath the Mountain was the opposite of his own; dark, creative, and beautiful and unlike anything he ever knew. His forest dwelling was full of life, bright sunlight during the day and starlight during the night.

"Highly unlikely," Legolas commented, doubtful.

"The world is not built in precise order, my son," Thranduil advised him, wry. "If someone as insignificant as a Hobbit can pass through my Halls undetected, then an Elf and a Dwarf can become friends."

 **~S~**

 **Author's Note:**

-There is no indication as to when Legolas met Gimli. Perhaps he met him right there during the Council of Elrond, though I suspect that he met him much earlier, considering the fact that Glóin already met the Elvenking during the Hobbit, and there were no doubt relations between the Lonely Mountain and Greenwood.

-The relationship in LoTR between Legolas and Dwarf was the kind that was cordial before their friendship, sometimes terse when they couldn't reach an agreement. That is what I tried to capture in this prompt.


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